Wednesday, November 30, 2016

Please stop nagging me about my life. It is nobody's but my own. Please stop telling me what to do if it does not affect you. You have your own life to live and your own stuff to worry about.

You don't know how it is like to be me everyday. You don't know how it feels like to go keep going home to a place that does not feel like "home". You don't know how it's like to feel empty every single day. You don't know how it's like to be crying for no reason at all because you can't explain it to anyone. Because they'll think that you are simply being shallow and melodramatic, and that you have no reason to cry. Because they'll never understand. You don't know how it's like to feel depressed every fucking single waking day of your life. You just don't know.

You don't know how it's like to live and wake up everyday just because you have no choice. You don't know how it's like to feel as if you have no reason to live. No, I am not suicidal and I do not have plans on becoming one. But to tell you honestly, I am not afraid to die. That if the time comes, I would welcome death with open arms because that's where we're all headed anyway.

You don't know how it's like to be me everyday. So please stop nagging me. Stop telling me what to do if it does not affect you. Stop telling me how to live my life. And stop making me feel as if I am a huge disappointment just because I turned out not to be what or who you wanted.

I look at the city lights from a distance and they no longer appeal to me. They used to excite me and amaze me. Now, I look at them and see nothing but pinpricks of lights that mean absolutely nothing. I look at them and see them as merely lights coming from vehicles, houses and buildings, which they are.

I look at tall buildings and they no longer appeal to me. They used to remind me of dreams that I once had. I used to dream of living in a big city, working for eight hours straight in a big company, and earning money so I could buy whatever I want. None of them mattered now. I have the job and the life that I wanted before, and I don't want it anymore.

I look at worldly things and they no longer appeal to me. I admit I used to be a materialistic foolish girl. The glam and the glitter used to attract me. I dreamed of having a job that enables me to buy whatever I want: the fanciest clothes and shoes, the latest gadgets, you name it. I look at them now and I see nothing but mere objects that I don't need. I look at them now and I see them as luxuries that I can live without.

I look at my life and see that it is empty. I used to want a lot of things and now that I have them, I realized that they do not make me happy. They never did. I look at my life and realize that it is my experiences that brought me joy. The many places I've been to, the different people I've met, the cultures I've experienced, and the life lessons that I've learned - these are the things that made me richer and made my life happier.

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

It was as if you were wandering in an unfamiliar territory for the very first time. You couldn’t help but feel wary of your surroundings. You looked around to get a feel of the environment. You entered slowly. Everything was completely new to you, so you tread lightly taking one careful step at a time.

Then you started to get to know the place a little bit better. You asked questions about it. You did your research. You tried to learn as much of its history as you could. You discovered something new about it every day. There were things that you loved about it. There were things that you did not like at all.

You started having your firsts. Memorable firsts. Sure, you have done all these things before in those places that you have been to, but with each place every first is different. Every first will always feel new. Every first will always be memorable.

From an unfamiliar territory, it soon became a place that you feel comfortable in. You started getting used to it. Those things that you didn’t like about it - they became tolerable and you thought that the idea of living with them didn’t sound so bad. After all, there is something good and bad in everything, and how you know that how you deal with it is entirely up to you.

Soon it started to feel like home. You became attached to it. There were times when you have to be separated from it for a while, and you always find your mind and heart wandering back to it. You always felt excited to see it. Even a small glimpse of it makes your face glow and your heart feel warm. Home. That’s what it has become to you. That’s what it felt like to you, and you would rather be nowhere else but there. There’s no place exactly just like it.

However, there will come a time that you would have to leave home. Why? Because if you do not, you will be stuck there for the rest of your life. And stuck is exactly what you do not want to be. You have to pack your bags and leave with nothing but memories to take with you. It can be hard and heart-breaking, and that’s completely normal because you became attached to it. The thought of leaving will make you cry, and it will make your chest hurt, and that is okay. You will feel that way for days, weeks, and even months. But soon you will be just fine.

Once you leave, you have to know that there is no turning back. There is no returning. You can only look back at the memories and reminisce. It may make you feel sad at first but once you have completely moved on, those memories will make you smile. Because you know that at more than one point in your life, that place has made you happy.

Sunday, November 20, 2016

I do not know who you are. I do not know if I have already met you or if I yet have to. But I know you are out there. I am patiently waiting, sitting out the days 'til our paths cross.

As early as now, let me set your expectations. Let me set your expectations that while you will be a priority once you come into my life and take on the role, you will never be priority number one. Never. And I need you to understand and accept that.

My passions will always be my priority. That is running, traveling, and immersing myself if new adventures and new cultures. Please understand that I will always dedicate my Sunday mornings for long runs. That my body is set to wake up in the wee hours of the morning to train or to run a race. That I take pleasure in tiring myself out through a great workout because it makes me feel good. Please understand that I will constantly crave for adventure every now and then to detoxify from my stressful monotonous weekly work routines. That I will always need a perfect balance of the mountains and the seas to keep me sane. That keeping me in the confines of my house will drive me nuts. That my feet are always aching to take me to new places.

Of course, I would very much love for you to join me in all of these. Run with me and we will have a hearty breakfast afterwards. Train with me so we will both be physically healthy. Travel with me and we will explore new places and meet new faces together. But if for some reason, you can't then I would understand. But you need to understand that even without you, I would still do all of these things. Even if I end up doing it alone. Because I need to do them. For me. And if you cannot be supportive, then you are not the one.

These things have always been there for me and have kept me happy for the past few years. I know that you will make me very happy when we finally meet. But please know that I will never give up my passions for anyone, not even you. They are a huge part of who I am and they have molded me to the person that I am now.

So read this before you enter my life. Read and understand and accept.

Monday, November 7, 2016

When I first met you, I never imagined the impact that you would have on my life. For all I knew, you were just a friend of a friend that I met at an event. Even before we met, I already knew about you. We share the same passion so I knew that our paths were bound to cross sooner or later. I just never imagined that you would matter a lot.

When you first showed interest, I was surprised. Why? I do not know. I just did not see myself as someone who would catch your interest. No, I am not flattering myself. It is just that it was something unexpected.

Then I got to know you on the surface. The basics: where you live, what you do, etcetera. Then our conversations grew from sometimes to often. I found that you were witty to talk to and that you seem to know a lot of things. Our conversations were never boring. You made me laugh.

Then we had the chance to hang out several times. Those moments were just like our conversations; they were never boring. We always had something to talk about. It was as if everything you said drew my attention. Correction. It was as if everything you said commanded my attention and I willingly surrendered. You never failed to make me laugh.

You were quite touchy. We held hands during the first time we hung out. You used to put your arms around my shoulders a lot. I guess I did not mind that. A friend called that fact out one time and told me that I should not let you. I shrugged it off. It was not as if I was physically putting myself out there. It was just that, as someone who does not talk about her feelings a lot, I always use touch to show a person how much I care. And mind you, I usually hate people touching me so if I so much as give someone a brief hug, then that means that they earned it. I guess Physical Touch is my love language.

August. I came to visit you at that place you so dearly love. The way you talked about it - it was as if it was magical. And I wanted to experience that for myself. Yes, I have been there a couple of times prior to visiting but I enjoyed neither of those trips. True enough, you showed me what a magical place it is. It was one of the most memorable out-of-town trips I ever took. I had a pang in my heart when I left.

But soon enough, that pang went away when I saw you again a week after. What came next was probably one of the most enjoyable months I ever had. Still August. We went through an ordeal that I never imagined going through with someone I had known briefly. I was worried and anxious all the time. I expected going through it all alone. It was stressful and tough emotionally, yet you were there for me. You have been there for me more than anyone else had ever been. I appreciated you for that. In between those days that we were worrying, there were lighthearted moments. We ran, we talked, we laughed, we went on road trips and food trips. We ran a lot. We talked some more and laughed some more. I learned more about you every single day that we were together. I was happy. You made me happy.

September came and I knew that you were leaving soon. You were going home. Yes, you grew up in the South but I know that the North is your home. As much I wanted you to stay, I would never ask you to. I could never take you away from your home. From the place that held your heart. September was a dull month. We talked a lot over social media and kept ourselves updated with each other's lives. I never asked you to but I am glad that you did. September was drawing to a close and that was when you decided to end it. Whatever this was. I did not want to, but I could not stop you.

October. I thought it was going to be a lonely month. Even though you said that we would stop whatever this was, we kept on communicating. Yes, it was not as often as it used to be but I was thankful that I still got to talk to you. You may not watch How I Met Your Mother but there is one line there that will always my favorite: "When I let a day go by without talking to you, that day is just no good." That single line very much describes how I feel for the very few people who matter to me. Very few, that the number does not exceed the number of fingers that I have on both hands. And I guess this line also applies to you. I thought October was going to be lonely, until you agreed to let me visit again. I kept counting down the days and I thought that the month-end could not come any faster. I would not go into the details of that trip but I found it enjoyable. However, it ended badly. All because I screwed up for doing something that I should never have done in the first place.

I do not know what came over me when I did it. I do not know if you can truly understand how I feel or where I am coming from. I guess ever since August, I was seeking for validation. Validation of what this is. Validation of something that I knew from the start was never bound to happen. You said it yourself. I should have lost all hope back then yet I did not. Maybe because I was taught never to give up if I wanted something so badly. I am a fighter. It is in my personality and you know that very well.

A challenge posted itself when I learned about her. You know who I am talking about. I felt threatened. I became jealous when I had no right to be. I became insecure knowing how close she was to you, in terms of proximity, and knowing the history that you had together. I knew that I would break the moment you gave someone what I wanted from you. I guess that is the reason why I did it. I am sorry for what I did but I could never apologize for the way I felt. I can only apologize for how I acted based on what I felt. And I could not stress this enough, but I am truly, sincerely, and regretfully sorry.

To tell you honestly, I miss you. A lot. I miss our conversations about anything under the sun. I miss our exchanges of random corny jokes. I miss receiving your selfies with whatever you are doing at the moment. I miss the exchanges of Emojis. I miss your friendship.

I do not know where to start fixing things, but I hope that this is a start somehow. You asked for an explanation. You asked me why I did it and here is the answer in all the honesty I can ever give. I know that our friendship is worth fixing and I hope that you will give me that chance. I will do whatever it takes to earn your friendship and your trust again. I promise that I will not screw it up.

Sunday, November 6, 2016

When people at work ask me if I smoke, I would smile and politely shake my head to say "no". Then they would say something along the lines of: "This job is so stressful, you'd be smoking in no time." To which I would reply: "I quit."

It was around this time in 2013 when I finally made the decision of having that one last stick of cigarette. It was probably the best decision I ever made. I started way back in college due to the influence of my dorm-mates who were at least three years older than me. I was a freshman back then and had just started enjoying the new-found freedom that college gave me. I graduated fresh from a conservative and strict all-girls Catholic high school. I was the typical good girl and a model student. I was always in the honor roll. I never went out with my classmates after school and I would always just go straight home in my school bus. I never cut classes. I never drank alcohol with my classmates. My only experience in drinking was the occasional sip of red wine at the family dinner table whenever we had celebrations. Suddenly in college, I was living two hours away from home with no parental supervision whatsoever and living with three older students who seemed really cool. I had my first stick of cigarette with them (DJ Mix in orange flavor) and I had my first taste of real drinking with them (gin mixed with pineapple juice). And the rest, as they say, is history.

Though it was because of their influence, I never blamed them. Not even once. I had a choice. I always had a choice.

When I left college and started working, I got exposed to a work environment where people smoke during breaks. It was either to relieve some of that stress induced by the demands of our job or they just did it out of habit. Whatever it was, people smoke a lot. I was one of them. I would smoke a minimum of three sticks per day.

Then something happened in 2012 which drove me into depression. Bad as it may sound, but I was actually thankful for that incident. It was that depression that let me into finding another outlet: running. I started running because it felt good. I would run until my legs hurt. I would run until the physical pain drowned out the emotional pain that I was feeling. I would run until I feel numb. I used to run everyday, then I got injured. I consulted a doctor and was advised not to run for a while.

A few months after that, I eased back into running. The depression was gone, yet the love for running was not. It was still there. Eventually, my love for running grew that I decided to foster it by taking care of myself better. That decision included quitting smoking. For some reason, it was very easy for me to quit. I had no withdrawal symptoms whatsoever. I guess it was just a matter of setting your mind into it. I never looked back.

I was not born a quitter. I never will be, except for this one particular instance in my life. When people ask me how I did it, the answer was simple. You just have to will yourself to do it, and the rest will follow.

I always do a welcome or introductory post whenever I am starting out a new blog. I now own four, including this. One is a personal Tumblr blog, to which I forgot the log-in details, but the link is here in case you're interested. One is my lifestyle blog dedicated to running, traveling, and food tripping. One is my mobile personal blog, which I can easily access from my phone and is a complete secret (no, you will never find the link to that). And finally this one.

So why create another one? Hmm, good question. But to answer that, just read the description on the right side bar. To put it bluntly, I overthink a lot and when I could no longer contain my thoughts, I would always need an outlet so I could write them. I was never good with words, in the verbal way, and I always express myself better in writing. I mean, I could write a thousand words about how I feel about something, but for some reason, I can never ever say them straight from my mouth. So here you go.

Feel free to read and comment at your own risk. This blog was never made to entertain. Again, this is just an outlet for my thoughts. Now if what you read actually entertains you, then good for you. So there.

About This Blog

The Midnight Journal is a collection of random thoughts that almost always come in the middle of the night. This venue serves as an outlet whenever this overthinking brain of mine could no longer contain them.